Page 10 of Cruel Master

Dear master of the universe, please don't let him be into anything like that, I silently pray. I don't even know if I believe there's a higher power out there, but I'm desperate and will try appealing to any deity that might hear me since it looks like that’s all I can do.

I don't know how much time goes by until I suddenly hear a clicking sound. My eyes flit over to the door, but I don't see it opening. I frown, and then a startled gasp leaves me whenever a part of the door opens up and a tray of food slides through it on the floor.

Once the food is passed through it, it closes almost as quickly as it opened, and I'm left staring at the tray sitting on the floor. It reminds me of the way they pass food to an inmate in prison—not that I've ever been to prison, but I’ve seen some TV lockup shows.

Who passed the food to me? Was it him, or are there other people here?

The thought that there could be someone else I could appeal to almost has me running over to bang on the door, but I think better of it. If someone is passing food to me through a door, then they’re obviously in on whatever is going on here. I'll find no help from them.

With a sinking heart, I walk over to the tray and pick it up. The food that would normally smell delicious to me only turns my stomach. I'm too nervous to eat anything, wondering what he has planned for me.

Surely, he doesn't have plans to kill me just yet, though, because if he did, he wouldn't have given me food, right?

I take the tray over to the table in the corner and sit there. I try to sip some of the orange juice, but I don't even venture with the eggs and bacon and fluffy-looking pancakes. I already know there's no way I'll be able to keep them down.

I don't even get a fourth of the glass of orange juice down before I rush to the bathroom and violently retch it all up. I brush my teeth again before I go back into the room and begin to pace.

My nerves are shot. I've never been the kind who likes being kept in suspense, and it's killing me not knowing what he meant by I would need my rest for what he has planned for me today.

I begin to worry my thumbnail between my teeth as I continue to pace back and forth, back and forth.

I can't believe I'm even thinking this, but I wish he would just hurry up and come in here and get it over with—that way I at least wouldn't be kept in suspense.

I don't know how much time goes by, but it has to have been several hours, and he still doesn't come in.

My suspicions are confirmed when another tray is slipped through the door. This one contains soup and a sandwich, so it must at least be lunchtime.

I set the tray by the other one on the table and, again, ignore it, knowing it's not worth it for me to try to eat it.

I take up my pacing again, back and forth, back and forth.

I'm like a woman possessed and it's stupid. I know that with me not eating, I should be conserving my energy—not expending it—but there's no way in hell I can stand to sit still and just wait this out. I'm going crazy.

And then I start to wonder if this is part of his torture. If he's one of those who's going to deny me any human interaction to try to break me. If this is just one of his psychological games.

If it is, then it's already working because I'm not even a full twenty-four hours into this thing and I feel like I'm about to go insane.

I sit on the edge of the bed and breathe in several deep breaths. I clasp my hands tightly together in my lap and try to keep myself still, but it's no use. My entire body begins to shake as despair and hopelessness overwhelm me.

I feel the tears rush hot and swift to my eyes. The next thing I know they're streaming down my cheeks, and I'm collapsed on my knees in the floor sobbing harder than I ever have in my entire life. My chest is aching with how hard I'm crying. It’s loud and noisy and ugly, but I can’t stop it. I keep crying until I'm sobbing so hard that I can barely catch my breath.

Only when I'm choking in my tears do I finally hear the click of the doorknob. I squeak as my heart shoots up into my throat, cutting off the flow of my sobs.

I raise my head up to look at the door in a mixture of relief and dread.

ChapterSeven

My breath hitchesat the sight of him standing in the doorway. He’s dressed in a dark suit just like he was last night.

Tall. Handsome. Powerful.

Terrifying.

I’m frozen to the spot as he walks over to where I’m still kneeling on the floor. I stare at his fine dress shoes when he’s standing right in front of me, and then suddenly he crouches and tips my head up with a firm finger under my chin.

Electric zaps zip through me at his touch, and my cheeks flush.

His blue eyes cut into me, and I wonder if they’ll always pierce me like shards of glass. “Miss me, kitten?” he murmurs.

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